


Sea of Sands | The Scorch Trails

by Void_Kitsune



Series: The People We Were Before? They Don't Exist Anymore. [2]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, F/M, Female OC lead, Minho Ships It, Original Female Character - Freeform, Rewrite of The Scroch Trails with OC as lead, Slow Burn, Subtle Romance, Survivor Guilt, Telepathic connection between Tamara and Newt, Telepathy, The Scorch Trials Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Void_Kitsune/pseuds/Void_Kitsune
Summary: They escaped the Maze but not without loss. Now the remaining Gladers are faced with an all-new challenge while they run from W.I.C.K.E.D- The Scorch.They're tested even further while they try and survive the heat and sand- and the Cranks-----A retelling of the amazing series with an original character taking Thomas' place.Based largely on the Movies, with a few things from the book. I only own my OCPart 2  of 3





	1. Help Received

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of the second part of my rewrite of the Maze Runner Series with an original female lead.
> 
> Part 1: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14252604/chapters/32868660
> 
> The series will continue in 3rd person, I should have done this from the beginning lol.
> 
> Might go back to Run Girl, Run in the future and rewrite it in 3rd but until then enjoy ;)

 

"TEXT" – normal speech

 _'TEXT'_  – telepathic speech

**The series will continue in 3rd person, I should have done this from the beginning lol.**

**Might go back to Run Girl, Run in the future and rewrite it in 3rd but until then enjoy ;)**

**o-o-o-o-o**

"Come on, Little Star."

Andromeda glanced up through her lashes to see her mother's hand stretched out, waiting for the child to grab it. The child did just that, allowing her mother to lead her down the unfamiliar bleak white hallways.

Andromeda's child mindset was fascinated by all the people wearing white overcoats and others with full black clothes, holding strange black objects as they patrolled the hallways. It was all strange and scary but made her curious too.

A light tug from her mother had Andromeda speeding up.

"Where we going?" She asked, blinking up at her mother.

"There's someone that would like to meet you, my little Star," her mother hummed, smiling down at her daughter.

"Oh?" Andromeda asked in excitement. "Who? Who?"

Her mother laughed at her daughter's enthusiasm. "You'll find out in just a moment, my dear."

Andromeda turned her eyes forward as they reached a door which her mother stopped at. Her mother tugged the card from her hip and placed it to the screen. It beeped, and the door slid open. They stepped inside, and Andromeda's icy orbs landed on a ginger-haired woman that sat at the desk at the other end of the office.

The woman looked up and smile as she stood, moving around the desk to approach them.

Andromeda gasped as the woman smiled down at her and the child felt her cheeks warm as she shyly hid behind her mother's legs. The woman chuckled as she reached them.

"Ave." her mother greeted warmly.

"Sister, I'm glad to see you in good health." Ava responded before turning her focus on the seven-year-old. "And you must be Andromeda, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, sweetie."

Andromeda's eyes widened at her words. "Are you my Auntie? Mama talks about you a lot and what you're trying to do!"

Ava smiled. "Tammie!"

Andromeda blinked twice owlishly.

"Tammie, you gotta wake up."

Tamara's lids opened groggily, and her gaze landed on Newt, who gave a smiled that didn't reach his eyes.

"Welcome back to the land of the conscious." he joked weakly, and Tamara groaned, pushing herself off his shoulder to sit up straight. Her back protested at the action and she rubbed her numb cheek that had been using Newt's shoulder as a pillow. Shoulders were definitely not the most comfortable replacement for a pillow.

Her grip subconsciously tightened on Chuck's figurine as she glanced around, her eyes landed on the helicopter's window. It was dark out and she had no idea of what time it could possibly be.

"We'll be arriving soon." Newt murmured lowly and Tamara glanced at the others to see them awake but exhausted. "Thought it'd be best to wake ya now than, when we actually arrive."

Tamara nodded and answered croakily: "Thanks."

She coughed to clear her throat and groaned as she rubbed her sleep filled eyes. Her stomach twang painfully as she moved, a hand coming to rest on the bandage that covered the spot where she'd pierced the stinger into her.

"Does it hurt?" Newt asked, brows furrowing in worry.

"Just when I make sudden movements." Tamara answered truthfully and shifted to sit upright more, her butt having gone numb.

Newt's hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed softly. Tamara twisted her head to look at him, her lips twitch into a faint smile that could barely be counted as one. Newt returned it.

 _'Did they say where they're taking us?'_  Tamara asked as Newt's hand slipped from her shoulder.

Newt shook his head.  _'He ain't said much since you fell asleep. Though I'm sure they'll tell us when we arrive.'_

_'Yeah.'_

They sat in silence, just watching the window as they flew. Hardly any time seemed to pass before the guy that was sat in the helicopter with them answered a radio call. His face sharpened, all traces of tiredness leaving as he sat tall.

"We'll be landing in roughly two minutes' time; you all need to listen closely to what I'm gonna say, alright?" The guy started. "Once we land, you all need to immediately run for the doors. No matter what you mustn't stop, got it?"

The remaining Gladers all shared confused glances.

"Do you understand?" the man repeated firmly, and they nodded. "Good!"

The helicopter landed and someone from outside pulled it open, the Gladers were hit the strong gush of wind generated from the propellers and covered their faces to shield them from the sand.

"Go, go, go!"

The Gladers scrambled from the helicopter and ran through the sand towards the open deadbolt doors. Behind them, they could hear shouting and bullets being fired at something but what they didn't know.

They run up the ramp and through the large and thick metal doors into the concrete building. The was more shouting and the doors began to close once all seven Gladers made it through, leaving the teens to glance around the large facility in awe, watching as over a couple dozen people worked and pottered about. It was obvious that the facility was still being worked on, if the sparks of saws and other mechanical things were any clue.

Suddenly a man came rushing over to them, calling for them to follow.

"Come, come." he gestured, and the Gladers look to one another, unsure but he repeats. "Come on, kids! We've got a bit of an issue, so please this way."

They do, and they don't go very far, only down several hallways before ushered them all into a darkened room.

"What's going on out there?" Minho questions once they were all in.

"Don't worry about it, we've got it covered. It's nothing we can't handle." the guy answered and slammed the door closed.

"Hey!" Tamara shouted but no one answered.

The lights flickered on and Tamara turned to see what was in the room with them. Her stomach growled quietly as her eyes landed on the table full of food.

"Dib on the rice!" Frypan called and all seven rushed forwards, all eager to grab the food.

It was like heaven for them all, the food was fresh and warm and a whole lot better than what was in the Glade.

"This is way better than Frypan's slob." Winston declared, and Fry chucked a piece of chicken at him getting snickers all around. It set of a food fight. They chucked food and laughed as they ate as much as their bodies would allow.

"The rice! Watch the rice!" Fry yelled playfully as food was thrown his way and they laughed louder.

Tamara hummed in delight at a mouthful of sweetcorn before downing some water from a jug.

**o-o-o-o-o**

"I don't know who these guys are, but they can cook." Frypan commented lightly in bliss from his perch against a pillar, the bowl of rice still in his grasp which he took another mouthful off.

"Who are they really though?" Teresa asked, leaning on a pile of sacks filled with what felt like sand or perhaps flour. "I mean we don't know anything about them."

Tamara exhaled, her right index finger rubbing the inner corners of her eyes before she ran a hand through her dirty hair and frowned at the grimy feeling. She pulled the bands from her plaits off and began to undo them. Newt reached forwards (having previously taken a seat on top of the sack which Tamara was using as a backrest) and turned Tamara's head to help untie the other side.

"Well we know their no friends of WICKED." Newt offered but his eyes didn't move from Tamara's hair.

"That's good enough for me." Minho added, pushing himself up to lean on his elbow from his space on the table. "You guys think too much. We're free,  _enjoy it_."

Tamara snorted. "You honestly don't find it even a little suspicion that they turned up as soon as we escaped?"

Minho pursed his lips and shrugged. "They arrived  _before_  we escaped technically, T."

"Then why didn't they get us out from where we were inside the Maze?" the dark brunette argued back and didn't bother commenting on the nickname either.

She was met with silence.

Tamara sighed "Sorry, it's just—"

"It's fine, Tammie." Newt cut in, smiling down at her when she twisted her head to look at him with tired eyes. "We're all weary, how can we not be?"

"Newt's right." Teresa nodded, and Tamara's orbs flickered to her and the ravenette smiled. "We've had a long few days filled with exhausting stuff."

Tamara exhaled via her nose and ran her hands through her now free hair. She sent another small smile at Newt in thanks which he returned with a nod.

Sudden there was a beep and the door was pulled open. The Gladers scrambled to their feet, moving forward just as a man with greying brown hair stepped into the room.

He smiled, hands clasped behind his back as he looked over the seven teens. "You kids doing all right? Sorry about all the fuss. We had ourselves a bit of a swarm."

"Who are you?" Tamara asked, he seemed— _familiar?_  But she had no idea how.

He led them all out the room and back down the hallway they'd come done previously, where he began to speak again: "I'm the reason you're all still alive. It's my intention to keep you that way. Now, we'll get you kids squared away—"

They passed entered the main bay area they'd entered from, it was a lot busier than when they'd arrived.

"—You can call me Mr. Janson. I run this place. For us it is a sanctuary, safe from the horrors of the outside world. You all should think of it as a way station. Kind of a home between homes." he ducked and pointed to the flying sparks of a saw in metal. "Watch yourselves."

The teens did, eyeing the flying sparks warily as they ducked.

"That mean you're taking us home?" Tamara asked, tilting her head curiously. The thought of home didn't sit right with her—not that actual thought of it, the thought of a warm home and the people she cared about with her was nice. But more in the concept of their families.

Janson sighed, smiling tensely over his shoulder at them. "A home of sorts. Sadly, there wouldn't be much left of wherever you came from. But we do have a place for you. A refuge, outside the Scorch, where WICKED will never find you again. How does that sound?"

"Why are you helping us?" Minho questioned. Voicing what the other Gladers were also thinking.

"Let's just say the world out there is in a rather precarious situation. We're all hanging on by a very thin thread. The fact that you kids can survive the Flare virus makes you the best chance of humanity's continued survival. Unfortunately, it also makes you a target, as no doubt by now you've noticed." Janson answered and led them to a smaller deadbolt door with an empty hallway the other side. He touched his key card to it and the door slid upwards. "Beyond this door lies the beginning of your new lives."

He turned them, clapping his hands together. "First things first... let's do something about that smell."

**o-o-o-o-o**

They were handed a towel and a clean set of clothes, underwear and all before being ushered into the unisex washroom. Tamara wandered over to the far side, away from the boys (for privacy reasons) and set her clothes and towel down on the bench outside the shower she'd chosen.

She pulled Chuck's figurine out of her pocket, running her thumb over the bloody wooden doll before setting it on the bench upright.

She exhaled and stepped into the cubicle and tugging the curtain closed. She pulled her shirt, shoes and pants off, she peeled off the bloodied bandage on her stomach with a grimace and kicked everything out from under the curtain before turning on the shower. She flinched as cold water shot out at first before warming as she adjusted the nozzle. She then removed her bra and knickers and dumped them at her feet.

She'd save the boys the sight of her dirty underwear if they came her way.

Tamara just stood under the steaming water, allowing it to wash the dried blood and grime from her body and hair.

She cared little that the hot steam made breathing a little bit more difficult as her mind played back everything that had transpired. Running into the maze, saving Alby, killing the griever, finding the griever hole, causing the death of over half the Gladers and finding the way out.

Had… had she rushed into it? If she'd put some more thought into what she was doing and what it could cause, could she have saved the Gladers? Alby?  _Chuck_? Could she have even possibly saved Gally?

She let out a shaky breath that left her feeling dizzy. Something tremoring caught her attention and she raised her hand, staring at it as it shook—why was it-? There was this tight feeling in her chest—what was it? She didn't understand, but her entire body felt weak, and there was this piercing pain in her chest.

She fell against the tilted wall, staring at her shaking hands and her eyes began to burn and her vision distorted. Her rubbed her eyes, desperate to clear her sight. She slid down the wall until she was sat there, breathing in the hot air that had her head dizzy and her final two stiches tugged painfully.

She didn't care—she… she'd caused the death of over half the Gladers and here she was, stomach stuffed and stood in a hot water shower that none of them would get the chance to feel.

It was guilt—but she deserved that horrid guilt though.

She listened mutely to the boys as they whooped and cheered as they got on with their own showers.

Had she not been so fucking persistent and eager to escape from the blasted maze then maybe—

"Hey Tamara, you've extremely quiet over there!" Minho shouted from the other side of the room, his voice echoed and interrupting her thoughts.

Tamara grimaced before calling back: "M'fine! Just have no desire to shout like a bunch of idiots."

She heard several gasps of mock offence.

"Rude!" Frypan shouted, Clint and Winston making sounds of agreement, but Tamara just felt numb.

Because she'd caused the death of their friends and yet, here they were, not blaming her when she deserved it. She really deserved it, what she  _didn't_  deserve was their friendship.

"I'm not shouting, why'd you not ask about me, Minho?" Teresa asked with playful offence.

Tersea's voice had other emotions push their way in. Anger? Frustration? They were a jumbled mess and it didn't help the scattered memories she had.

"Uhh—" Minho spluttered. "Well, the shank's all the way over in the corner, Teresa, you're not too far from us!"

There was laughter.

 _'_ Are _you alright?'_  Newt asked quietly.

Tamara exhaled as she finally pushed her self-back to her feet. Her fingernails caught the stitches that held the sting wound shut. One of them had been torn. Tamara let out a breath and hooked her finger under one and pulled. Her swallowed the gasp of pain that followed because she deserved it. It took more strength before she ripped it out, the final one came out with it.

 _'I'm fine, Newt,'_ Tamara finally answered robotically. She grabbed the bar of soap and began applying it on her body. She flinched at the gel stung her open wounds, both hand and stomach ones.

She could almost feel Newt's frown.

 _'You certainly don't buggin' sound alright, Tammie.'_  he responded and Tamara's teeth clenched.  _'But if you don't want to speak about it, just know when you_ are _ready my ears are open, yeah?'_

 _'I know.'_  Tamara answered shortly, gently closing the link.

She washed the soap from her body and moved onto her shampoo to finally clean her greasy hair. She again winced as this time the shampoo stung her face wound, but she cared even less as she had for her other wounds. If that was somehow possible at this point.

What was a little pain when she'd gotten others killed for her stupidity and impatience?

The chatter decreased as everyone got on with showering, the occasion question or conversation started but none that involved raising their voices to the point it would echo throughout the room.

Tamara cut the water off, squeezing her hair of as much liquid as possible before, using the curtain to hide her body, reached out and grab her waiting towel. She towelled her hair first, drying it of as much water as possible before using it for her body.

Wrapping the towel around her body, she stepped out, nabbed her clean clothes and moved into a dry cubicle so she didn't have to worry about getting her new clothes wet. Once she was dry, Tamara perched on the bench to finish up drying her feet to put her socks and shoes on.

She wrapped her old clothes up in her wet towel, snatching up the figurine and began to head to the door to dump the stuff. When she exited, she found that the others were already there.

"Took you long enough." Clint commented light heartedly and Tamara shrugged, inhaling and exhaling deeply. She held back a wince as the movement tugged at her stomach wound.

"Alright." a woman with short raven hair smiled. "I've been asked to take you all to the medical wings for a check-up. So if you would all follow me."

They do, and they're led into a large room, busy with professional looking people in lab coats that moved about the room with clipboards and medical equipment. The woman led them to a seating area.

"They'll call you for you when their ready, okay?"

And she leaves them to sit and wait. They teens don't have to wait long before three come forwards and Winston, Frypan and Clint go off.

After a few more moments a young, pale skinned and dark ginger-haired woman walks up, her eyes locked onto Tamara, asking: "You're Tamara, correct?"

The brunette nodded silently from her seat.

"I'll be the one seeing to your health, if you'd come with me, please?" she gave a smile that showed her pearly white teeth and Tamara pushed herself to her feet, wincing as a twang of pain flared up in her stomach and trailed after her without saying a word, they arrived at the far corner and the woman pulled the curtains closed as to give them some privacy.

"Well then, Tamara, my names Dr. Martin and all I'll be doing is giving some injections and taking care of any injuries that you've sustained. If that's alright?" Dr. Martin smiled again, and Tamara gave a tight-lipped smile, mentally wondering if the woman ever stopped smiling. What was there to be cheerful about anyway?

"Other than your face and hand, have you got any other ones that need cleaning?" she asked.

"Uh—I've got one on my stomach? It was stitched but I pulled them during our escape." Tamara answered.

"I'll see to that one first then, yes? If you could lay back and pull your shirt up for me, please."

Tamara did so and looked down at it, her shower had made the wound red and sore. She pursed her lips and mentally thanked that it hadn't bleed when she pulled the two stitches out during her shower.

"Ah, okay." Dr. Martin hummed. "I'm going to clean it and redo the stitches, yes? It's healing nicely already for a fairly new wound."

Dr. Martin cleaned the area, numbed it and re-stitched it. The ginger woman then cleaned her hand and face wounds. She stitched her hand and gave her a sort of glove to act as a protector.

"Your face has healed extremely nicely considering you had limited equipment where you were." Dr. Martin smiled. "How long ago did it happen?"

"Five days?" Tamara frowned, trying to recall how many days had actually passed. She felt a little embarrassed about the fact she'd forgotten how many days had passed. "Possibly six."

"Still, the skin has already begun to seal up, unfortunately, you'll be left with a scar because of where it is." Dr. Martin offered with another smile. "Right, now that those are out of the way, I'll be giving you some injections."

"What for?"

"Vitamins, Calcium—things you've most likely been deprived of." Dr. Martin answered as Tamara sat up and let the woman clean her inner elbow for the needle. "I'd also like to take some blood too, just to check that you're clean, okay?"

Tamara nodded, allowing the injection and the blood withdraw on her other arm.

"There we go," Dr. Martin commented once she pulled the second needle out and rubbed a cotton bud over it to clean any blood. "That's you all done."

Tamara nodded and pulled her sleeves down, swinging her legs off the side of the bed to stand.

"I do believe that Director Janson would like to also speak to you before anything else happens, so I'll be taking you to him." Dr. Martin informed the brunet as she slid from the bed.

"Okay?" Tamara frowned, unsure about what the man would like to talk to her about but complied as she was led back through the curtain and down the room towards the door again.

Newt caught her eye.  _'Where's she taking you?'_

' _Apparently the Janson guy wants to speak to me? Don't know what about.'_  she answered truthfully as she passed them all and exited the room.

She was led down a few hallways before Dr. Martin opened a metal door to reveal a small room with a table and two chairs. One wall had a mirror which Tamara had sneaking suspicion was a one-way window.

Stepping into the room, Dr. Martin closed the door behind her. Tamara spared a glance over her shoulder at the now closed door before taking a seat as she waited for Janson to arrive. She didn't have to wait long because only, what else like, two minutes passed before the door opened again and Janson stood there, now lacking his jacket.

"Tamara, thank you for seeing me. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I was just hoping we might get a moment to chat in private, away from the others." he greeted and pulled up the other chair to sit. "Well I won't take up too much of your time. I really only have one question: what do you remember about WICKED?"

Tamara frowned, sitting back.

"You're not in trouble." Janson quickly added, seeing the change in expression. "We're just having a conversation. I'm just trying to understand."

"Understand what?" Tamara questioned, her frown didn't disappear despite his attempt at reassurance.

"Whose side are you on?"

Tamara swallowed, tilting her head as she continued to keep eye contact. She scratched her cheek. "I remember I used to work for WICKED, I remember that they sent me into the maze, I remember watching my friends die in front of me. I'm on their side."

"Interesting." Janson commented, his expression was controlled and it set Tamara on edge a little. "You say you worked for WICKED, but they sent you into the maze. Why would they do something like that?"

"I don't know. Maybe you should've asked them before you killed them all." Tamara said and couldn't help the snarky tone, an almost bitter smile gracing her lips.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." his lips twitched into a smirk as he stood. "Enjoy the rest of your stay."

"That's it?" Tamara questioned, confused as Janson made his way to the door.

"Yeah, you've told me everything I need to know. You and your friends have all been cleared to join the others." he opened the door and turned back smiling. "Soon you'll all be moving onto greener pastures."

"Wait." Tamara sat up straight, her eyes widening. "Others? There's more of us?"

Janson nodded.

**.**


	2. Not All It Seems

**Finally completed chapter 2 :')**

**Been busy, had writers block and other things.**

**The previous chapter has had an update.**

**o-o-o-o-o**

Tamara was led to the loud and chattering room full teens all sitting at tables, eating dinner. It was—honestly, Tamara wasn't sure what to feel about the fact they weren't the only maze, that WICKED had forced a whole lot more children into deadly situations then she'd originally thought.

But one thing she knew she didn't feel was surprise.

"Hey, Tamara!" Minho called, her eyes flashed to him as he jogged over to her.

"Hey, Minho, what's going on?" her eyes flickered about the entire room.

"We weren't the only maze." he grinned, throwing an arm over her shoulders as he led her back to the table the boys had claimed.

Minho sat and left the seat between him and Newt open, so Tamara took it that they'd saved the seat for her and dropped down into it, listening as someone from another maze was speaking to the boys.

"—And there was this big, loud explosion, and these guys came out of nowhere. Started shooting up the place."

' _Hey.'_  Newt greeted but his eyes never left the two random boys opposite them.  _'Everything go alright?'_

' _Surprisingly yeah._ ' Tamara commented dryly. ' _Asked me about my previous involved with WICKED. Though there's something about the Janson guy that just rubs me the wrong way.'_

Newt hummed over their connection.

"It was intense. They pulled us out of the maze and brought us here." another one added.

"What about the rest?" Newt asked, turning his full attention back to the physical conversation. "The other people left behind in the maze, what happened to them?"

"I don't know. I guess WICKED still has them." the first one answered with a shrug.

Tamara, Newt and Minho all shared a glance and she questioned: "How long you guys been here?"

"Not long, just a day or two." he glanced over his shoulder and the Glader's followed his eyes to a boy sat by himself with a hood over his head that was sat on his lonesome. "That kid over there has been here the longest. Almost a week. His maze was nothing but girls."

"Really?" Minho questioned, glancing to his fellow Gladers in what could be perceived as playful jealousy and Tamara raised a brow then rolled her eyes.

"Some guys have all the luck."

Suddenly the voice of Jason filled the room, making everyone stop what they were doing and turn to look at him as he walked to the centre. "Good evening, gentlemen, ladies. You all know how this works. If you hear your name called please rise in an orderly fashion, join my colleagues behind me where they will escort you to the eastern wing. Your new lives are about to begin."

There were clapping from the other teens in excitement. Tamara frowned, shifting in her seat.

"Connor—"

Someone behind them high-fived and moved to the front of the room.

"—Evelyn. Justin. Peter. Allison. Squiggy."

There were chuckles all round at the name.

"Franklin and Abigail." he closed the folder he was holding, and people groaned in disappointment. "Now, now, don't get discouraged. If I could take more, I would. There's always tomorrow. Your time will come. Go on, eat up."

The kids were led from the room by the guards and Janson followed them from behind.

"Where are they going?" Minho asked.

"Far from here. Lucky bastards." the first commented as they both turned back around.

"Some kind of farm. A safe place. They can only take in a couple of people at a time." the second added.

Tamara tilted her head and glanced passed Newt, her eyes landed on a dark-skinned woman in a lab-coat and behind her was Teresa. Tamara shifted but stopped herself from impulsively wanting to get up.

"You guys know why Teresa isn't with us?" she asked.

They all followed her eyes to see where she was looking and they too spotted Teresa being led passed the window.

' _Teresa?'_  she reached out.  _'You alright?'_

Teresa jerked and immediately turned her head to look through the window, her eyes landing on Tamara almost instantaneously.

' _I'm fine, they said they wanted to do some more tests.'_  she answered, and her voice was filled with a little awe that Tamara believed to be because she was willing telepathically talking.

' _Okay.'_  Tamara nodded.  _'Let me know if anything happens, yeah?'_

She smiled.  _'of course.'_

Tamara closed the link.

"Tamara?" Newt asked.

Her eyes flickered to him, her icy blue orbs meeting his chocolate brown ones.

"She said they wanted to do a few more tests or something." she answered, and Newt frowned, turning back to look in the direction Teresa had gone. Something didn't sit right with Newt about the fact that Tamara was now okay talking with Teresa—when had it stopped hurting? How long had they been talking to one another?

"Thought it hurt to speak to her?" he questioned turning back to look at the brunette, making sure to keep his voice quiet in case someone overheard.

"When she speaks  _to_  me, it does." Tamara answered truthfully. "But she can't really talk to me unless I let her anyway, I keep blocked her."

Newt nodded, feeling somewhat comforted about the fact and he didn't understand why. "Gotcha."

**o-o-o-o-o**

Once dinner had finished, the Gladers were taken and led to the room that would be acting as their dorm.

The guard turned to Tamara as she stepped in. "Unfortunately, at the moment we don't currently have a room available that we'd be able to put you as we usually split you all up by gender. I hope that's alright?"

"More than alright, I'm fine sleeping in here with them." she gestured to the boys with her thumb and the man nodded. "I'd feel more comfortable staying in here too."

He raised a brow, but he nodded again. "Understood, I'll let Director Janson know."

He left, closing the door and Tamara turned back in time to see Minho steal the top bunk from Frypan, who complained about the steal.

Winston lay on the far bottom one, arms behind his head and smiled. "I could get used to this."

"Yeah. It's not bad." Newt agreed with a hum.

Tamara dropped onto a bottom bunk and Newt lent against the ladder of that bunk.

"You okay, Tammie?"

"Just still feels odd to me." she answered. "Don't know why."

"I'm sure it's nothing." Newt commented, and Tamara was the one to hum in agreement this time.

Tamara reached into her pocket and pulled Chuck's figurine out, running her thumb over it before leaning back and placing it on her pillow. She stood and pulled her arms into her shirt.

"What are you doing?" Winston questioned and all they're attention went to her.

Tamara rolled her eyes as she reached round her back and unhooked her bra, pulling it off as she said: "Taking my bra off is what. I've spent the last five days wearing this thing and hardly had a chance to take it off. So I'm taking the chance now, where I can sleep without my boobs being squished uncomfortably by it."

She dumped the bra into the far corner of her bed and put the figurine on top of it for safety.

"Guh." was all Minho said and Tamara turned, giving him a deadpan look over Newt's head.

She glanced at all the other boys who, to Tamara, could be described as looking like blushing school girls and rolled her eyes. "God, you're all being so effeminate."

"What the hell does effeminate even mean?" Frypan questioned.

Tamara squinted her eyes at him. "You don't—" she glanced to the others. "Do any of you know what effeminate means?"

"No." "Nope." "Nada."

"Just 'cause you might know the word, don't mean we do, Tammie." Newt commented in amusement, lips twitching up into a smirk.

She mockingly side eyed him which made him smirk wider.

"Effeminate basically means a guy having feminine qualities untypical of a man." she explained, and she was met with looks of mock disgust.

"What?" Clint groaned. "We don't act like girls."

"Yeah, well you all blushed like a shunking school girl with a crush- so I was in the right to call you effeminate." Tamara snorted and dropped back on her chosen bed with a smirk. She got glares in return.

The was a knock at the door. "Lights out in twenty, kids."

"Alright!" Newt called in return and then climbed the ladder to his bed.

Tamara exhaled softly and kicked off her shoes before sliding under her covers.

**o-o-o-o-o**

It was the sound of the electric buzzing that distracted Tamara enough to stop her thoughts from overwhelming her—distracted her enough to not allow her mind to fall down that rabbit hole of guilt again.

She knew it  _would_  happen in the future, but she'd rather not do it when—where the guys might hear her.

She blinked when she heard scurrying. She lifted her head in confusion—what?

It got louder until it sounded like metal and she pushed herself up onto her elbows.

" _Psst."_ Came a quiet voice.

She blinked again.

"Hey." It was definitely someone—but where? Then there was fabric against metal from below her. "Down here."

She did just that, looking down and under her bed to be met with a vent below and someone on the other side. He'd already removed the grating and she recognized him as the lonesome boy at dinner.

"What the—?"

"Shhh!" he put a finger to his lips to signal for Tamara to stay quiet, then gestured for her to follow. "Come on. Follow me."

"What?" she mouthed before did as he asked anyway. Silently as possible, she slid from her bed and climbed into the ventilation shaft that just so happened to be big enough for someone to crawl through. Ironic.

The boy glanced over his shoulder, seeing her lagging behind, said: "Hurry, this way. Come on."

"Hey, wait a second." Tamara hissed quietly but did as asked. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Come on, we're gonna miss it." Was the response she got. Tamara shook her head and sped up until finally the boy exited into a larger section of the ventilation system and turned a corner. She shimmed along and poked her head around the corner.

"What are we doing?"

"Come here." He gestured, and so she moved closer to see him sitting by a grating that looked down on a hallway. "Watch."

She peered down into the hallway, and for several moments—what felt like a minute—passed before anything happened. A frown itched its way onto Tamara's brows as they watched as two doctors wheeled a covered gurney with the display of a human skeletal structure on top and whoever was on said gurney covered with a blanket like tarp. The display included a heartbeat and other technical things that Tamara didn't understand.

One of the doctors was Dr Martin, the familiar ginger hair a standout to Tamara, the other was the nurse that had been with Teresa. They wheeled in a total of three people into the room below the vent.

"What the hell was that?" Tamara hissed in confusion.

"They bring in new ones every night like clockwork." He explained.

"You know what they do with them?"

"I don't know—this is as far as I've ever gotten. The vents don't even go into that section." He answered, biting his lower lip as in continued. "But once they go through that door, they don't come back out. I don't think anybody ever really leaves this place."

Tamara let out a breath before sucking one in sharply. She glanced up as the boy moved again, heading back the way they'd come.

"Come on. We've gotta go before somebody notices we're gone."

"Why did you show me this?" she called quietly over her shoulder.

"Because I saw the way you and that black-haired girl looked at each other—you guys can talk telepathically."

Tamara's eyes widened. "How—?"

"'Cause I can do it too." He answered before shaking his head. "And I told you because maybe the others will listen to you. There's something weird going on here. And I know you think so too."

Tamara felt like her world froze over—could this the other boy she could remember? She couldn't make out facial features but there was just something—something that struck her as familiar about him.

"Hey, wait." He paused, glancing back. "What's your name?"

He smiled. "Aris."

When she finally arrived back at her designated room, she put the grating back into place and climbed into bed almost breathlessly. Her mind buzzed louder than the lights in the room with questions.

**o-o-o-o-o**

That morning, when everyone was awake, Tamara confessed about her late-night exploring to mixed responses. But she told them what she had seen, and how Aris told her that no one came out of the room. They were sceptical, saying, of course, they had stuff going on behind the scenes.

Why weren't they listening to her when she said this? Why weren't they at least the tiniest it worried?

During breakfast, she 'introduced' herself to Aris, stating he looked incredibly lonely by himself and he smiled, appreciating the company. The other Gladers entered the mess hall not too long after and spotted her sitting with Aris and came over to join them.

She introduced them to him. When it was loud enough to murmur to him, she said that they needed to get inside the room.

"How? We'd need a card?" he replied just as quietly.

Tamara allowed her eyes to wander about the room, landing on some guards by the door but that wasn't what caught her attention. No, it was the cards on their hips. Keycards.

"We need to get our hands on one of their keycards."

"Yeah, but how?"

Tamara exhaled and plucked her knife from the table, only to pause and stare at it. "I think I have an idea."

"Idea?" Winston questioned, the Gladers' heads all turned to her. "What idea?"

"Tammie." Newt said in a warning tone.

But the brunette ignored him in favour of turning back to Aris. "I'll get myself sent to the doctor's clinic—or what every they call it."

"Yeah, but how would you pull it off?" Aris's brows furrowed.

"I'm gonna rip my stitches."

"Wait, wait, what?" Newt hissed. She finally turned back to see him glaring at her. "Whatever the hell you bloody plan to do,  _don't_."

She huffed, dropping the knife loudly back onto the table.

She does it anyway, stealing the knife when the Gladers aren't looking and Aris's shoots her a concerned look but she gave him a reassuring smile.

She'd inhaled as deeply as possible, straightened her back until the stitches had pulled. She slipped the knife under and sawed until it snapped. The wound bled this time and she grimaced. Once she'd pressed the bandage back into place, she hid the knife in the tank of a toilet.

Newt was waiting outside the toilet with an unimpressed and, dare she say it, disappointed look _. 'What the hell did I tell you, Tamara?'_

' _I have to get a keycard, Newt. Didn't even hurt.'_  She reassured him, lying through her teeth. It stung and pulled at the already tender flesh. She could feel it bleeding too. "Now I need to see a nurse."

She and Newt approached the closest guard and asked him for assistance and he agreed to take Tamara to a doctor while Newt returned to the other Gladers.

She saw Dr Martin again, who looked worried at the snapping of the stitches, but Tamara gave her a sheepish smile and confessed she and her friends got into a bit of a play fight and forgotten about her injury.

Dr Martin tut, looking amused. As the ginger turned her back, Tamara snagged the keycard from her hip and went on her way. The same guard escorted her back to her designated room and opened the door for her.

And she stepped in, the others all turned to her as soon as she did.

"Why the hell did I tell you about pulling those bloody stitches?" Newt hissed once the door had been closed.

Tamara blinked at the anger in his tone.

"Yeah, I'm agreeing with Newt, Tamara." Frypan announce. "That was seriously messed up, I mean ripping them out like that s'gotta hurt."

"And done damage." Minho added.

Tamara shrugged, it didn't hurt any more than last time—but she wasn't going to say that to them. She instead said: "I've gotta find out what's on the other side of that door."

"Right." Newt drawled, not looking impressed.

Tamara shot him a look of exasperation. "Newt, they're hiding something. 'kay? These people are not who they say they are."

"No, Tamara, you don't know that!" Newt censured. "The only thing that we do know is that they helped rescue us from WICKED. They gave us new clothes. They gave us food. They gave us a proper bed. Some of us haven't had that in a long time."

Tamara opened her mouth to respond, but Newt beat her to it.

"Some of us a lot longer than others."

She almost physically drew back like she'd been slapped in the face—had he really just?

Newt had never, even before—but this wasn't really the Newt she'd know before the wipe, she knew that, even if he still did portray the same traits.

So Tamara— _Andromeda_ —did what she knew best. Drew away, threw up a guarded expression because—she didn't really know him after all, did she? She knew Samual, who then become Newt, who then became  _this_  Newt. She didn't know  _this_  Newt very well.

Newt had never argued against her like this— _this_  Newt didn't know her like Samual-Newt did, he didn't trust her like he'd done, didn't trust her word more than anything in the world.

(Deep down Tam— _Andromeda_ —felt like she deserved this for everything she'd done—helping WICKED, making the boys suffer so much, —made Newt suffer so much—,  _killing the Gladers._ )

For several long seconds, there's only the buzzing of the lights above them as she stared him blankly, eyes void.

Then Newt opened his mouth— maybe to argue more or apologies but she'd never know, doesn't care because he never gets the chance to speak.

"Hey, Tamara." Aris' voice had her immediately whirling around, turning her back onto the Gladers—she wasn't really one of them now, was she?

"What the..." Clint muttered.

Aris, ignoring the others, stood and asked: "You got it, didn't you?"

Tamara smirked, holding up the keycard. "Did you doubt me?"

Aris's gave a breathless laugh in response. "For a moment I kind did."

Aris ducked back down into the vent.

"Tammie—" Newt started but Tamara just moved forward to climb into the vent.

"Tamara, stop for just a moment." Newt's sharp tone did make her pause, but she only spared an aloof glance over her shoulder.

"I'm going to find out what's happening, whether you like it or not, Newt." Her own tone was cold as she crouched to climb in.

As she moved, she faintly heard Minho speak: "You shanks see the look she gave?"

There were murmurs of agreement.

"Why does she have to be so bloody stubborn?" Newt hissed.

"Whoa, dude." Frypan spoke next. "We've only known her a week, not nearly as long as we've known each other. We ain't seen every part of her yet, and this is probably just a defence mechanism for shit like that, Newt."

They continued to talk but Tamara tuned them out as she got further away. She didn't care what they thought, to think after what they'd just been through that they didn't even have some sort of belief in her  _hurt_.

But then again, a sardonic smiled appeared on her face, she did get their friends killed.

Maybe it would be best to distance herself entirety after this—before she killed them too.

**o-o-o-o-o**

**So a bit of a rough time for Tamara but it's mostly caused by her own actions.**


End file.
